


The Tide

by opalmatrix



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Angst, Community: Saiyuki_time, Explicit Language, Gen, Mental Illness, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-31
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During his time in the Temple, Hakkai's sanity ebbs and flows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tide

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **[saiyuki_time](http://community.livejournal.com/saiyuki_time/)** challenge #17, Sanity and insanity. Time allowed: 50 minutes. I fail big time: it was more like 70. (Written July 2008)

**Drowning**

Cho Gonou walks calmly into the chamber of the Three Aspects. He has heard that death by drowning is actually a very pleasant sensation, and so he has given up his struggle against the ocean of blood that is closing over his head. He will be dead, and those he killed will be avenged, and this mindless battle that is existence will be over.

He doesn't remember exactly what he does, when Sanzo is finished speaking and they tell him that he must live, instead. He imagines that he tried to die anyway, but it didn't work: there wasn't actually any blood to breathe in. His last memory is that Sanzo had to drag his limp body from the room.

**Floating**

He lies on a clean, white bed in a clean, white room. There is no blood, and hardly any sound: what noises manage to make their way into the little room are muffled. The air he breathes is fresh, warm, and faintly scented with flowers. A small teapot, a cup, and a covered bowl of rice await him on the scrubbed wooden table next to his bed. He can see a bit of blue sky through the one small, high window, and suddenly a bird flies across that lively patch of color.

He remembers that he knew about birds, and the sky, and the flowers he smells. He also remembers than his name is now Cho Hakkai, and Cho Hakkai is new, and deserves to eat rice, drink tea, and watch the birds in the sky. He sits up and reaches for the bowl, but his tears brim over and fill his mouth with salt before he can eat any of the rice.

**In the Depths**

"You can't keep hiding from what you are," says Sanzo, coldly, as the rain pours down outside. "You want to make some atonement for what you did. You can't do it by pretending you're just another man. Focus. Breathe deeply and look within. You've got a better brain than most, but it won't mean shit if you don't do something with it."

Hakkai turns away, unable to meet his advocate's eyes. The dripping outside the window recalls the trickle of blood onto pavement in  
Hyakougan Maoh's castle, and the moist perfume of the rain seems drowned in the iron scent of spilled blood and the meaty smell of crushed skulls and brains. The darkness is reaching for him, and it terrifies him, but he can't make himself turn toward the light, either. He doesn't  
want to see what his new mind's eye is revealing: Sanzo's living blood, flowing in strong currents through his body, and his living brain, a  
perfect rosy coral in the cavern of his beautiful skull.

**Surfacing**

The rain continues into the night. Unable to sleep, he wanders the corridors and galleries of the Temple. A turn of a corner presents him  
with Sanzo, perched on a windowsill, smoking, gazing out into the rain-reverberent darkness. His face is turned away from Hakkai, but  
Hakkai can see the hunched shoulders, the tremble in the hand and arm as Sanzo reaches out to snuff his cigarette stub against the stone of the wall below the sill. And when Sanzo senses him, the face he turns to Hakkai mirrors what Hakkai feels on his own face: darkness, blood,  
pain.

For an instant, the violet eyes harden and the beautiful face sneers. Then Sanzo snorts inelegantly and rubs his face, as though wiping away  
the anger at having his own maunderings interrupted. He gestures impatiently to the other half of the broad windowsill. Hakkai sits down, and they both breathe together, gradually banishing the shadows with the mastery of their bodies.

**Maelstrom**

The singsong sound of a child reciting a lesson pulls him toward the door of the classroom. Boy-monks are learning histories by heart. As  
his shadow falls onto the classroom floor, one boy in the back turns to see who has come to interrupt the tedium of the classwork. His bored  
eyes sweep across the visitor indifferently at first, but something in Hakkai's face brings them back for a second look, and then he stares,  
eyes wide. And Hakkai is remembering.

_The alley behind the school, on the way out of the village. Eyes wide, Mori-kun falls back before his teacher. "Sensei, no - don't hurt_  
me, no, no, no-o-o-o ... !" But Gonou has the child in both hands. He seems to weigh no more than a rat, and it is easy to throw him against  
the brick wall of the school. His head hits with an audible crunch, and Mori slides limply to the ground. Now someone is shaking Hakkai,  
his throat hurts, and Sanzo's voice is harsh in his ears: "Breathe, damn you! Breathe!"

**The Shallows**

His voice is still scratchy the next morning, although he can't remember that he screamed and in fact, doesn't want to try to remember anything  
about the previous afternoon. He goes to sit beside the fishpool, watching the endless shift and shimmer of life in the cool green eye of  
water. When he looks up, Goku is watching him.

"How many fish are in there?" he asks, coming and squatting down near Hakkai.

Hakkai's throat tries to close up: "Y-you'd better go away. I might harm you."

Goku looks at him for a moment and then shakes his head. "Nuh-uh. No way. Who stopped ya from pullin' out your other eye? You can't hurt  
me." He turns back to the pool, studying the fish, counting under his breath.

Hakkai blinks. Of course the boy is correct. Even if he can't seem to count beyond 10. "How high can you count, Goku?"

Goku sighs. "Sanzo was tryin' to get me to 20, but I'm too stupid."

It had not occurred to Hakkai that he might still have anything that anyone would need. Painfully, he maneuvers past the darkness and  
retrieves the memories of his kindergarten math curriculum. By the end of the day, Goku can count to 100, and they have determined that there  
are 39 fish in the pool.

**Undertow**

Sanzo is frowning as he sits at his desk. "You can't stay here forever. You've been stable for days. You need to get out of here."

"Perhaps I'll shave my head," says Hakkai, lightly. He's proud that his voice shows not a sign of the void that has suddenly opened within his head. Sanzo makes a rude noise and picks up a cigarette.

"You haven't got the inclination for the religious life. That's not going to be your way to redemption, so cut the bull. We can pay you as a teacher, but you need to find someplace else to live."

"I have nowhere to go. And I don't trust myself around other people." Hakkai hunches in his chair, and the dark place in his brain is pulling him in, filled with shadows and the sound of dripping. Sanzo glances at him for a moment, shrugs, and lights his cigarette.

"That red-headed pervert came by yesterday, asking for Cho Gonou." Sanzo blows out a thin stream of smoke and watches as it drifts upward. Hakkai stares, too, his mind suddenly bright and hazy.

"You ... you mean Gojyo-san? Gojyo-san was asking for me?" Into his mind's eye floats a crowded, dirty room ... warm, comfortable, and lighted with the smile of the man who'd saved his life. _How could I have forgotten?_

"Huh. Yes. Sha Gojyo. He was asking for Cho Gonou. I told him Cho Gonou is dead."

Hakkai is on his feet. "**What?** You _told_ him _that_?"

Sanzo taps the ash off the end of his cigarette and turns back to his papers.

"Why should you care? It's the truth, isn't it?"

**Ashore**

The streets of the town are ahead of him, busy with people all leading their own little lives, people who have never heard of Cho Hakkai. He doesn't remember how to get to Gojyo's little house, but he has a vague feeling that it was on the other side of town. Someone will be sure to know, he's certain: Gojyo's appearance is singular, after all. He heads for the bustle of the marketplace.

And there, by a fruit stand, is a tall, slim figure with a jacket slung rakishly over his shoulder, bare arms golden in the bright sunlight, hair as red as the apple he holds in his hand. But - and Hakkai nearly stumbles - the fiery hair is cropped short.

_Why in the world had he cut his hair?_

He stops for a minute, all his doubts welling up. Clearly, Gojyo has left that part of his life behind, he's made a new start, he doesn't need a broken former murderer reappearing, interfering in his business.

_But he came to the Temple to ask about me. And Sanzo told me about it: Sanzo, who never does anything without a reason - or sometimes even three or five reasons at once._

And then Hakkai thinks of another reason why Gojyo might have cut his hair, and for the first time in longer than he cares to think, his heart feels warm. He steps forward before that tiny glow can fade, before his mind can think of any more reasons why he shouldn't, and picks up an apple himself.

"These are such a beautiful red, aren't they?" says Hakkai. And he's terribly pleased that his voice is steady.

The cropped head turns, the crimson eyes widen in shock. And then, before Hakkai can start to worry, the scarred face relaxes and the beautiful mouth curves into that well-remembered little smile, wry, and warm, and accepting, no matter what terrible secret Hakkai can reveal. Gojyo holds Hakkai's eyes with his for a moment, then turns to the attendant.

"Missy, on second thought, I'll take four."

And Hakkai can breathe again, because knows that he can follow Gojyo home.

 


End file.
